


Walking a Fine Line

by Amedia



Category: Rat Patrol
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-13
Updated: 2010-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amedia/pseuds/Amedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canonically, the Army tried to make Troy an officer, but the show never told us how he got out of it! This ficlet offers a possible scenario.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking a Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal.

"We can't do anything here, Sarge," said Hitch, gesturing to the broad, open plains that swept on toward the east as far as the eye could see. The hilltop from which he and Troy were surveying their options was the last geographic feature for miles. "If Dietrich brings his convoy this way, we'll never be able to sneak up on him."

Troy nodded. "If we can convince him to go _that_ way," he said, sweeping his arm to the north, where the terrain was far more varied, "we can ambush him in the canyon." He thought for a moment. "We have to do just enough damage to make him shift his course, but not enough to make him turn back entirely."

"Piece of cake," Hitch said cheerfully. "We've threaded that sort of needle before, haven't we?"

"We sure have," Troy said.

* * *

  


 

 _Two years earlier_

"Troy, what am I going to do with you?" Captain Sloane groaned. Troy, standing straight to attention in front of Sloane's desk, decided it would be safer not to answer.

Sloane continued. "You have to know that there is _nothing funny_ about unauthorized movement of government property in this man's army."

There was a long enough silence that Troy felt compelled to respond. "Yes, sir," he said.

Sloane stared very hard at his desk. "Furthermore, there was _absolutely_ nothing funny about the general's face when he woke up this morning to find a Quonset hut in the exact center of the calisthenics field." He took a moment to get his face under control and looked up at Troy with a stern expression. "You've broken enough rules to spend the rest of the war in the stockade, but we can't afford to lock men like you away. I'm putting you in for a week, and then I'm transferring you out to the Special Services. They'll find a way to keep you out of trouble."

"Yes, sir."

"And you can forget about that officer promotion recommendation I was going to put in for you." He took an official form from his desk and tore it ceremoniously in half. "Which is a damned shame. I know the men in your barrack. Anyone who could get that pack of losers to move a small building halfway across the compound in dead silence in the middle of the night has leadership skills I can't begin to imagine."

"Yes, sir."

"Hitchcock helped, didn't he?"

Troy was silent.

Sloane tapped a pencil against his desk. "All right, I can appreciate loyalty, even misplaced. He's not going into the stockade. But I'm transferring him to Special Services along with you. I'll also send along a bottle of antacid for your next commanding officer, because he's going to need it. Dismissed!"


End file.
